


Black and Blue

by GarnetSeren



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Male-Female Friendship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 15,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6317167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetSeren/pseuds/GarnetSeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say seeing is believing, but sometimes there can be more than meets the eye. With a woman like Natasha Romanoff, that saying applies tenfold. <br/>An exploration of the thoughts and feelings that Steve Rogers' has towards a certain former Russian spy, and the other men in the redhead's life.<br/>***Written in UK English, not US***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

The first time Steve saw her, all he could focus on was how wrong she looked. Her hair was wrong, left loose instead of tied back as required. Her uniform was wrong, wearing a man's tie instead of a woman's. And then there was the most distressing issue.. her _unmentionables_ were visible, through her shirt!

Steve had to avert his eyes, feelings of guilt and disloyalty to Peggy began to coil in his gut, just from noticing. That was when he noticed the baseball game playing on the wireless, it was one that he and Bucky were in the stadiums for, back in 1941. That was when he realised just how wrong everything really was. Not long after that, things got _really_ weird...  
  
It was two weeks later, when Steve actually met her, and found out who she was; Agent Natasha Romanoff. The vivid sun was bright in his eyes as he stepped out of the helicopter, and onto the carrier platform.

She was haloed by the sunlight, the rays lighting up her fiery red hair. She was a complete blackout girl, and it took Steve several moments to realise that it was the same woman who had looked so wrong, just a few weeks prior. Though now, all he could think was what a dream puss she was.

Then she smiled at him, a sly little smirk, and all he could think was: Wow! That thought only intensified tenfold, as Steve followed Agent Romanoff through the helicarrier.

He'd always prided himself on being a good, honest man. A gentleman. But he couldn't stop his eyes from sweeping her attractive body, just as he couldn't with Peggy. However, when she glanced back over her shoulder, he did his best to not seem like he'd been taking a gander, despite the blush he could feel rising to his cheeks.

Though he wasn't sure if her own appreciative look was meant for him, or the good doctor who is walking beside him. His heart sped up all the same.  
  
But later on, Steve realised he didn't stand a chance. Not once he'd seen her with Agent Barton, who'd rejoined S.H.I.E.L.D. thanks to some cognitive recalibration, whatever that was... the technology of the new century was completely beyond him, and Steve really didn't have a clue.

There was nothing untoward or unprofessional between Agent Romanoff and the archer, it was much more quiet and subtle, which made it seem all the more powerful. It was in the way she looked at Barton.

Not like the warmth with which Peggy used to look at him, nor the doe eyed glances girls use to give Bucky. No. There was an intensity to her gaze, one that Barton returned in equal measure. That realisation was further affirmed during the fight in New York city.

When Steve saw them together, fighting back to back, it was obvious that their involvement was long standing. They were effortless together, seemingly knowing what the other was about to do, without even looking. It was as enviable as it was admirable, and even though Steve wasn't proud to admit it, he was starting to feel a little jealous, even before Agent Romanoff mentioned Budapest...  
  
Later on, it had been a completely automatic response when he rushed to shelter her with his shield. It wasn't that he doubted she could make it to safety on her own; Agent Romanoff was as formidable as Peggy ever was, perhaps even more so.

But he was there and able to offer her protection, to shield her from the explosion that followed the Hulk and Stark taking out... whatever in God's name they were fighting. Steve honestly thought she was going to slug him, or at least berate him, even though it had been the gentlemanly thing to do.

However, she merely flashed him that coy smirk of hers, and gave him a wink. Before long, she was surprising him yet again. When she asked for a boost, he didn't doubt her abilities for a second, though he couldn't help worry for her safety.

Serum or no, Steve knew he'd have failed miserably if he'd attempted what Agent Romanoff managed to make look effortless. Because, holy mackerel! When she flipped up onto one of those flying-craft-things... it was nothing short of impressive, that was for sure.

In that moment, he envied and admired Agent Barton in equal measures, since he wasn't sure how the other man coped. Steven knew he would have given himself a stress ulcer, worrying about her. Peggy had been an independent and indomitable woman, but Agent Romanoff took it to a completely new (and frightening) level.


	2. Colleagues

After stopping the Chitauri invasion, and helping to clean up the mess left in New York, Steve worked with Natasha on numerous occasions. Nothing quite as terrifying as an alien incursion, mostly just short term mission to take out various terrorist cells.

It was vaguely reminiscent of his time with the Howling Commandos, though with the added bonus of some warmer climes. The hot climates of Honduras, Tonga, Burma and Nauru were vast improvements to the cold and often damp weather of Italy and the Alps, during World War Two.

And as much as he missed working with Bucky and Dum Dum, his second and third in command respectively, working with Natasha was relatively enjoyable. Even if she teased him worse than any of his old team ever did.  
  
When he'd started thinking of her as Natasha, rather than Agent Romanoff, was a mystery. It must have been somewhere between downtime spent reading her rather extensive file, and agreeing with Fury to appoint her as his second in command.

Steve hadn't been looking to pry when he'd sought access to Natasha's S.H.I.E.L.D. dossier, and he hadn't been singling her out in particular, but he'd decided it was best to read up on all of his new colleagues.

Coulson, Stark, Banner, Thor... not that there was a great deal of information on him, since he was from another planet... and wasn't that just nuts! Steve also read up on Barton, secretly hoping that there would be _something_ regarding Budapest, since Natasha's file gave up no secrets regarding that.

Perhaps he should have felt embarrassed, that something called out in the middle of battle, was driving him a little crazy, but it really was. And other than discovering a very bland report, stating that Barton had recruited Natasha after encountering her in the Hungarian city, Steve's search had proved fruitless.

Eventually he admitted defeat, mostly because he realised that he'd never work up the nerve to outright ask either of them, even though he'd been given plenty of opportunity to do so.  
  
During the two years following the Chitauri attack, Steve had built a good working relationship with the pair. Occasionally, the three of them would work together, though more often than not it was just him and Natasha leading a squad.

Sometimes Barton would be his second, if the redhead was on a separate mission for Fury, but that was a rare occurrence. The archer was actually a really nice guy, easy to get along with, though worryingly laid back... especially considered the guy went into battle with nothing but a bow and arrow.

Granted they were very sophisticated bows and arrows, but still... Natasha on the other had was a real pistol, which made working with her rather interesting. Steve almost considered that they'd built a tentative friendship over the years, even if she still terrified him during a firefight.

He was definitely glad she was on his side, and could certainly see how she had got her codename; Black Widow. She was beautiful and deadly in equal measures, and like no one he had ever encountered before. Not even Peggy.


	3. Danger! Danger!

Those twenty four months had been relatively enjoyable, once Steve had managed to get his head around the fact he'd been a 'capsicle' for sixty seven years... as Stark liked to remind him.

Natasha had been invaluable to him during that time, not only as a second in command, but also as a friend. She'd tirelessly tried to bring him up to date with the modern world, and thankfully only cursed at him in Russian, the few times he'd accidentally managed to annoyed her.

Even though Steve was sure she'd have liked nothing more, than to pummel him. However, Natasha did that often enough on the training mats already. Everything was going well, until the debacle aboard the Lemurian Star happened.  
  
As far as Steve's was concerned, their mission had been to rescue hostages, though it turned out that Natasha had another agenda. He was furious when he found her hacking into the ship's computers, even though he could hazard a guess that it was under Fury's orders... but it still put the mission at risk.

It was for that reason Steve glowered at her, and not the vague feeling of hurt that she'd kept her objective from him. Regardless, he didn't hesitate to grab Natasha around the waist and haul her to safety, when a grenade detonated nearby.

Though when he sat next to her, barely separated from the flames by a low partition wall, Steve couldn't decided if he wanted to strangle or kiss her. Which was when realisation hit. He was forced him to admit, to himself at least, that he no longer merely thought of Natasha as attractive.

He definitely had the hots for her, though Steve tried to push that to the back of his mind, and focused on finishing the mission. However, it seemed like the mission ever really ended. Instead, it twisted and morphed into something much more serious, and the feeling of being torn between kissing Natasha and strangling her returned, under much bleaker circumstances.  
  
They were in the Walter Reed Army Medical Centre, not long after Fury was pronounced dead. Steve had Natasha pressed against the wall of a dimly lit room, and was close to blowing a fuse at her, since she'd taken the thingamabob that held all of S.H.I.E.L.D.S encrypted data on it.

It also really burned him up, how she spoke about ghost stories when there were much more serious things to discuss... because that was all the Winter Soldier was. At least, that was what Steve previously thought. As Natasha revealed a strip of porcelain skin just shy of her hip bone, his traitorous pulse jumped and his fingers twitched, desperately wanting to reach out for her.

Though lust quickly turned into a burning need to protect, when he saw the vicious scar from a bullet wound, marring her pale flesh. Steve felt an inordinate amount of rage towards the Winter Soldier in that moment, and silently vowed to get Natasha some sort of vengeance, even though he knew she'd kill him for having such thoughts.

“Bye bye bikinis.”  
  
As Natasha spoke the words, Steve's mind fixated on what the redhead would actually look like, wearing the scrap of clothing that now passed as a bathing suit. Unsurprisingly, he felt a blush rise to his cheeks and he swallowed thickly.  
  
“Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now.”  
  
As soon as he had said it, Steve worried he'd offended her, but luckily, Natasha only smiled that damnable smirk of hers. Though later on, after they'd slipped past their would-be pursuers, he was certain she was getting her own back.

The get up she had him wearing was ridiculous, and he nearly baulked when she informed him they were heading to the mall. He hadn't a clue why they were going there, but he deferred to Natasha's judgement and followed her lead. She was the international spy, after all.

However, spy or not, Steve was still not convinced about their disguises... or his at least. Natasha swore she'd found their clothes by randomly breaking into the staff locker rooms, back at the hospital. But Steve was sure there was nothing random about their attire.

In fact, he was convinced she'd riffled through all available lockers, intent on creating the most pathetic ensemble possible... for him, at any rate. After all, he looked like a complete sad sam, just as he'd done pre-serum.

Whereas Natasha still looked twenty-twenty. Idly, Steve wondered how much she'd hurt him, if he dared admit how adorable he thought she looked in the striped hooded sweater she wore. Knowing Natasha, probably a lot... especially since she was someone else's girl.


	4. Kiss Me Quick

“Kiss me!”  
  
It was a demand. A demand that made Steve's heart leap into his throat, and his brain short circuit. His confusion must have shown on his face, or perhaps he had spoken it out loud, because Natasha actually rolled her eyes at him.  
  
“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Natasha hissed.

There was urgency in her voice, but Steve's mind was still struggling to catch up with her request. It had caught him completely off guard, and combined with the fact that he was still reeling from pretending to be her fiancé, he felt utterly off kilter.

Part of his brain, the part that hadn't reverted to the sickly under weight drip he'd been pre-serum, realised that her request must have been for their cover. But that didn't matter. Natasha was still someone else's best girl, and he hadn't kissed anyone since Peggy.

But then Steve felt soft lips against his, and tasted a hint of bubblegum, before his brain caught up with the fact that Natasha had taken the initiative. She was already kissing him, surprisingly soft and sweet, just her lips pressed against his.

Her hand was warm where it cradled the side on his face, and Steve shivered pleasantly when her slender fingers brushed the hair at the base of his ball cap. Despite not knowing what the boundaries were, and desperately not wanting to overstep them, he hesitantly placed one hand on her side, whilst the other kept a vice like grip on the escalator's hand rail.  
  
He was still vaguely aware of the bustling crowd and the din of the mall, but his focus had narrowed down to the woman who was unexpectedly pressed against him.

He smelt the fresh floral scent of Natasha's perfume, and felt the soft cotton of her sweater, as he tentatively stroked his fingers along her side. To his surprise, she pressed a little closer for a moment, before she broke their kiss.

Steve's eyes, that he hadn't realised he'd closed, snapped open at the loss of pressure. His fingers twitched to pull her back to him, even as she turned away. He was dazed, a little breathless, and could feel a blush rising to his cheeks. He absent-mindedly licked his lips, and savoured the taste of bubblegum.

“You still uncomfortable?” Natasha asked, a little too innocently.

Steve stifled a groan. He felt completely embarrassed by how much he'd enjoyed the kiss, as well as guilty. It didn't matter to him that Natasha had initiated it, nor that she'd obviously only kissed him to save them from being discovered.

Actually... that kiss had probably saved their lives, but that didn't really matter. Natasha was _still_ Barton's girl, and Steve knew he shouldn't want to kiss her again.

However, he did. Craved it even, though he refused to admit it out loud. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her damnable smirk in place, and Steve knew she was waiting for an answer. He really didn't want to, but didn't want to be rude either, and also didn't want lie.

No matter how confused his feelings were, Natasha was still his friend... and perhaps more importantly at the moment, she was possibly the only person he could still trust. So after rubbing his face in agitation, and righting his ball cap again, Steve did his best to answer her as honestly as possible... she deserved as much.  
  
“It's not exactly the word I would use.”


	5. Omission

“Was that your first kiss since nineteen forty five?”  
  
Steve was mortified. Had Natasha really just asked that? Who was he kidding, this was Natasha … of course she had. He furiously tried not to blush at her question, but from the way her mouth quirked up at the corner, Steve knew he'd failed miserably.

She was always managing to fluster him, even after all this time... then again, he'd always been hopeless around a beautiful dame. As Peggy once told him, he had know idea how to talk to women, and apparently he couldn't kiss them very well either.  
  
“That bad, huh?” Steve replied.  
  
He aimed for nonchalant. This was Natasha after all, she was most likely just teasing him, since it did seem to be her favourite hobby lately. However, the words came out more clipped than Steve intended.

He tried not to sigh, as unbidden memories bubbled to the surface. Another car, another blackout girl, another life. Back then, Peggy had seem amazed he'd never asked a dame to dance, now Natasha was teasing him about his lack of kissing prowess.

He felt annoyed, though quickly realised his bad mood wasn't directed at the redhead, but more at himself. Regardless of the fact the kiss was only a ruse, it really bothered him to think she hadn't enjoy it at all.  
  
“I didn't say that,” Natasha insisted, smiling.  
  
“Well it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying,” Steve insisted.  
  
“NO! I didn't... I just... wondered how much... practise you had.”  
  
If he hadn't been diving, Steve would have whipped his head in her direction. In all the time he'd know her, Natasha had never seemed surprised or startled.

She also never spoke so quickly, nor denied something quite so much. It was astonishing to think, but for a brief moment, the redhead seemed honestly upset that he thought that's what she was implying. When he risked glancing at her, Steve still expected to see her customary smirk, however she was looking at him a little wide eyed.

Her expression seemed to be completely genuine, as if her mask had completely dropped for once. Idly, Steve wondered if that was something only Barton ever got to see, though quickly shook his head, trying to banish the thought.  
  
“You... I... don't need practise,” he deflected.  
  
“Everybody needs practise,” Natasha insisted, smiling again.  
  
Steve felt slightly mollified by her round-a-bout assurance, still embarrassed, but quietly thankful that she was _only_ asking about kissing. There was no chance he would have been able to deal with her inquiring about the rest of his personal life... or serious lack thereof.

Steve wasn't ashamed of still waiting for the right partner, he just wasn't in the mood to open himself up to anymore teasing... Natasha had enough ammunition as it was. So, to try and save face... Steve lied. Though really, it was more like bending the truth. He _had_ kissed other people since waking up. On the cheek, the forehead, and even very chaste kisses on the lips when he visited Peggy. But Natasha didn't need to know that.


	6. Burning Down the House

Blistering heat and bone jolting force assaulted them, as they huddled under Steve's shield. Natasha surprisingly clung to him... the grip so tight, that she'd ripped his t-shirt.

However, the bite of her nails barely registered, since his concentration was solely focused on keeping the shield above their heads, as debris from the explosion rained down on them. Choking dust soon filled the air, and the din of collapsing metal and concrete almost deafened him. Instinctively, Steve tightened his hold around Natasha's waist, pulling her body flush against his.

Even as he yelled with the effort of keeping the shield aloft, part of his brain registered how good it felt to have her so close. When the commotion had finally subsided, Steve's muscles trembled from exertion, and the reigning silence was almost as deafening as the explosion had been.

Their tiny shelter was becoming unbearably hot, the darkness was absolute, and the air was becoming stale. The warm dead weight against his side scared him, but Steve was convince that Natasha must have been caught by a stay piece of debris, knocking her out... as the Black Widow was not the type of woman to faint.

At least that's what he hoped, because Steve doubted he could handle the alternative, in fact, it was something he outright refused to even consider.  
  
With considerable effort, Steve forced a large slab of concrete away with his feet, whilst keeping the shield above their heads, in case anything was dislodged with the movement.

When the heavy piece of debris fell away from what could have been their tomb, Steve coughed violently, as he inhaled a lung full on smoke. His eyes watered at the acrid smell, and his skin burned from the heat off the still smouldering fires.

To Steve's dismay, his jostling hadn't woken Natasha, and after only briefly checking her vitals to reassure himself, Steve scooped her up into his arms. The movement caused the flames to glint off something around her neck, and after lightly brushing her dust speckled hair out of the way, Steve caught sight of a delicate golden arrow.

He instantly knew who it was for and what it meant, and an irrational wave of hurt and jealousy hit him. Despite the unwarranted feelings, Steve carefully cradled Natasha to his chest, noticing for the first time the vicious cut across her temple. He'd hoped to carry her carefully out of the destroyed bunker, taking his time so he wouldn't aggravate any unseen injuries she had.

However, the telltale sound of helicopters sounded overhead, just as search lights came into view. Once again his instincts took over, and after quickly retrieving his shield, Steve made a dash for the nearby woodland.

He hoped its familiarity would prove their saviour, and that Natasha would be alright. Whether she was Barton's girl or not, she was still a close friend. Perhaps his only one, now that the extent of S.H.I.E.L.D's betrayal and lies had been revealed.


	7. Friends and Allies

A few worry filled hours later, Steve could have cried when Natasha finally regained consciousness. He'd managed to borrow another beat up truck, and about halfway through their journey back to Washington DC, the redhead's green eyes had finally flickered open.

She'd muttered something darkly in Russian, profanities if Steve was to hazard a guess, before quietly thanking him. It took him longer than perhaps it ought to, before he realise Natasha was thanking him for not leaving her for Hydra, and despite still reeling at Zola's revelation, Steve was shocked she would think he would... as well as a little hurt.

But when he thought about it, he began to wonder if the former Russian spy had ever had many people she could depend on and trust. Perhaps that list had only included Barton, Coulson and Fury... up until the Avengers Initiative, at any rate, and Steve couldn't helped feeling sorry for her.  
  
It was quite surprising that Natasha accepted his plan without question, even refraining from pointing out that it was more a lack of a plan than anything; drive back to Washington DC, and track down the only person he was sure wasn't compromised, Sam Wilson.

Steve asked if she wanted to contact Barton, but Natasha point blank refused, stating she'd already sent him an encrypted warning, but wasn't about to endanger his life further than it already was. Steve respected that.   
  
Upon reaching Washington DC, Sam hadn't been too hard to locate, and hadn't hesitated to give them somewhere to lay low. Steve felt a little awkward, once realising Wilson thought they were a couple, since he ushered them into his spare double bedroom.

But Natasha had merely smiled at their new ally, before slipping into the en-suit to shower. Not long after that, once Steve had his own scrub down, he sat cautiously beside Natasha on the bed. He wished they were both wearing more than just towels, as his eyes were a little tempted to wander, but he was more than thankful for Sam laundering their filthy clothes.

However, their state of undress made it almost impossible to comfort Natasha, when she once again thanked him for saving her from the bunker... since she was too unconscious to do it herself; Natasha's words, not his. Her genuine gratitude and apparent surprise unnerved Steve a little.

They'd been pretty much partners for two years, so he couldn't believe she didn't expect him to watch her back. In truth, Steve's equal parts offended and hurt, though quickly realised the only person Natasha's probably ever relied on, other than herself, was Barton. Which was pretty heartbreaking, when he thought about it, but not as much as watching the shock register on her beautiful face, when he told her he trusted her.

It never failed to amaze Steve how such a seemingly confident woman, could value herself so little. It was maddening, and since it drove him bonkers, Steve imagined it must drive Barton to distraction. No matter how much red Natasha thought she had in her ledger, she was a good person, he just wish she would realise that.

Gingerly, Steve cupped her jaw, gently turned her to face him when she looked away. If they'd been dressed, he would have put an arm around her shoulders, perhaps even attempted a hug. But with so little between them, he knew it would be wholly inappropriate... not to mention disastrously tempting.

Though having Natasha look up at him through her thick lashes, wasn't much better. Despite his common sense, and his respect for both her and Barton, Steve couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to press his lips to hers again.

Of course, that was the exact moment Sam waltzed in, declaring breakfast was ready. Natasha merely grinned and followed Wilson out into the hall, and Steve was left wondering if he was thankful or the interruption, or not.


	8. Let Her Go

The next twenty four hours were a complete blur. From the attack on the freeway, and discovering that Bucky wasn't sixty years dead but actually the Winter Soldier, to the revelation that Fury wasn't dead either; even though they'd watched the director flat line.

Not to mention that Natasha was shot, Sam was roughed up, and Steve found himself facing off against a brainwashed Bucky... who was trying to kill him. Then there was the terrible moment Steve felt himself falling from a crashing helicarrier, followed by sinking into the murky depths of the Potomac River.

Though just as the darkness started to claim him, Steve thought he saw a metal arm reach into the water. For a moment, he put it down to the wistful hallucinations of a dying mind, but then he was gasping for air and groggily watching a black clad figure stride away, leaving him alone but alive on the stony riverbank.

Everything was dark after that, until Steve hazily woke up in a hospital bed. He was in immense pain, hooked up to countless machines and monitors, with a vast amount of his body wrapped in bandages. He faintly heard Tony's and Bruce's voices beyond the door, as well as Maria Hill's. Steve wasn't sure why or how they were there, but he was reassured to know they were.

It was good to know that even with S.H.I.E.L.D gone, he still had friends to rely on... and that group had seemingly grown, since Sam was sat by his bedside, regarding him warmly. Steve's vision was still a little blurry, his throat parched, but he still opened his mouth to speak.  
  
Steve was about to ask after Natasha, since he had no idea how or where she was. But Sam simply shook his head, and handed him one of those flat little computers that Tony loved so much. It took him several minutes to fully digest what he was reading, because he couldn't believe his eyes.

When Natasha originally promised to bring down S.H.I.E.L.D with him, Steve had fully believed her, but he'd never imagined she'd do it so spectacularly. He never expected that she'd expose herself and Barton... along with the rest of the agents, and a host of Hydra's secrets. Steve's already considerable respect for her grew, as well as his concern.

By her own hand, Natasha had nowhere left to hide, and he hoped Barton could somehow keep her safe. Steve desperately wanted to tell the redhead that he had her back, and always would. But much to his disappointment, she didn't answer her phone, not visit during the three long days it took for the serum to heal him. During that time, whenever Natasha was mentioned, Tony and Bruce wore near identical looks of concern, as did Maria and Sam.

Though by the end of the second day, they finally explained that Natasha was at congress. The only thing that stopped Steve from rushing to her side, was Tony's assurance that Barton was with her. It was small consolation, but he begrudgingly accepted it.  
  
It was three more days after his hospital release, before Steve saw Natasha again. He was stood in the Arlington National Cemetery, saying his goodbyes to Fury. It was a little surreal, talking to a man who should be dead, beside a grave that bore his name.

But then again, Steve supposed his life stopped being normal the moment Erskine picked him. Sam was beside him, assuring his help was a forgone conclusion in the hunt for Bucky... which was something Steve had no idea how to thank him for.

He was also unsure how they should start their search, but then Natasha arrived. She looked as beautiful as ever, especially with the late afternoon sun glinting off her sleek red hair. Steve itched to draw her... she was just that stunning. However, there was an unmistakable sadness in Natasha's verdant eyes, something he'd never seen before, but the look was gone before Steve could question her about it.

Quietly, she handed him a file... one that contained all the information she'd managed to dig up on the Winter Soldier. Steve was amazed, though decided he was probably best left in the dark about how she obtained the information.

He smiled at her... for her... and was rewarded by the barest twitch of her lips in response. Despite his common sense, Steve desperately wanted to pull her in for a kiss, and for a moment, he wondered if Natasha felt the same.

The look she gave him was new, almost wistful, but before Steve could ask, she leant up an planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. It was goodbye. He knew it was goodbye, and his heart broke a little.


	9. The Wrong Call

A year of fruitless searching for Bucky had passed, before Steve saw Natasha again, and he was surprised when she greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek.

But since it was also the first time the whole Avengers team had assembled in three years, Barton was right behind her and offering him a friendly handshake, so Steve tried not to think too much it.

Then followed was a series of covert meetings with the spectres that were Fury and Coulson, before a plan of action had been formed. It seemed Natasha had been rather busy since she left him at Arlington Cemetery, and not with relaxing and reinventing herself, like Steve had hoped.

Apparently Natasha, Barton and Stark had spent the past year analysing any data they could get about S.H.I.E.L.D and HYDRA, which turned out to be a lot. It boiled Steve's blood to see how far the enemy's web had spread, and he was relieved when the whole team unanimously voted to shut down their operation.

In the following months, they tracked down every HYDRA cell they could, a search that took them all over the globe before finally ended up in a wintry Sokovia. Everything was going relatively well, until Natasha called in a 'man down'. Steve was sure only one man could make her voice waver so uncharacteristicly, a fact that was confirmed when he heard her whisper:  
  
“Don't do this, Clint. I didn't give you permission to die”.  
  
A roar had followed shortly after, accompanied by an explosion, which led Steve to believe that the Hulk had demolished whatever had taken down Barton.

There wasn't a discussion as to whether or not the mission should be aborted, Stark simply wasted no time calling in the jet, and Thor carried the archer onboard without preamble.

Stoically, Steve kept out of the way, but silently watched the hubbub that engulfed the rest of the team. Banner had returned to his human state, and was quickly cleaning Barton's wound. Stark had left the jet in J.A.V.I.S' capable hands, and had gone to help Banner, but not before laying a reassuring hand on Natasha's shoulder.

Steve was surprised to see the gesture of camaraderie, since the pair had never been particularly close before, but Steve supposed something must have changed in the past three years. Even Thor went and stood beside Natasha, regaling her with Barton's past exploits, like she didn't already know them. Steve supposed it must have been an Asgardian thing, and it at least made the redhead smile slightly.

He wanted to offer his own reassurances, but also knew he wouldn't have been able to resist the urge to pull Natasha into his arms. So instead, Steve kept his distance but stood vigilant... it was the least he could do for her. Thankfully Barton's wound, whilst serious, was easily treatable.

Mostly thanks to Stark flying the world's most renowned geneticist; Helen Cho, from her base in Seoul to the Avengers' Tower. But despite Barton's speedy recovery, the situation went went from okay, to bad, to worse, and then to just plain weird...  
  
After the confrontation with Stark and Banner's failed experiment; Ultron, along with the Maximoff twins, Steve found himself standing in Barton's 'safe house' with the rest of the Avengers.

But that wasn't the weird part. _That_ came in the form of seeing Barton in the arms of a pretty brunette, who was heavily pregnant. A golden retriever bounded happily around the open plan kitchen and living room, whilst Natasha hugged two excited children, who referred to her as “Auntie Nat”.

Steve was somewhat relieved that he wasn't the only one shocked by the development, since Stark went so far by insisting that the woman; Laura, and even the children, were S.H.I.E.L.D agents.

Even Thor stood dumbstruck, staring at the domestic scene in front of them, only Banner seemed unsurprised by the situation, even sheepishly hugging Laura hello, and ruffling the children's hair.

By this point, Steve wasn't sure if he was more surprised that Barton wasn't with Natasha, that the archer had a secret family, that the redheaded spy was actually really good with children, or that it seemed Banner was familiar with all of these facts.  
  
Watching the scene unfold, Steve felt a mixture of relief and happiness, but also hurt and a little jealous, even though that was completely irrational. He was relieved that Clint and Natasha weren't actually a couple, which meant he could actually stand a chance with the fiery redhead after all... once the mess with Ultron was sorted anyway.

He was glad that at least one of his teammates had managed to create a relatively normal life for himself. But it did hurt, standing in the Barton homestead. Not only realising his teammate hadn't trusted him enough with such personal information, but because looking at Clint with his wife and children, let Steve see everything he had wanted to have with Peggy.

And thanks to whatever the little witch had done to him aboard disused tanker, Steve felt the old pain of the lost years even more acutely.

Later that evening... once 'uncle' Fury had unsurprisingly materialised from some hidden shadow, Thor had literally flown off in search of something, a hearty home-cooked dinner had been eaten and the kids were in bed... Steve walked into the living area, and found his companions gathered around a roaring log fire.

The dog; Lucky, was sleeping on a rug in front of the hearth, whilst Fury and Stark reclined in high-backed armchairs. Laura was cuddled into her husband's injured side, telling the story of how Natasha had first set her up with Clint.

The archer was smiling adoringly at his wife, one arm thrown around her shoulders and the other resting on top of Natasha's long legs, which were stretched across his lap. The Russian was reclining on the couch, wearing an oversized purple hoodie; that had probably once been Clint's, with her head propped up on Banner's shoulder.

The doctor had a hardback book open on his knee, and the pair were seemingly reading it together, even though Natasha occasionally added her own anecdotes to Laura's story. Even though the scene was jarringly domestic, and completely at odds with what had happened over the past few days, it wasn't until Steve noticed Banner's arm draped around Natasha, that it really started to bother him. He swallowed thickly, opting to sit astride one of the dining chairs, rather than squeeze onto the couch with the two couples.

Steve could have kicked himself. After being so convinced that Natasha was with Clint, he'd failed to see the budding relationship between her and Banner.

Which was surprising, since Natasha had seemed wary of the doctor at first... or perhaps that was more the Hulk. Because now that he really thought about it, Steve remembered the appraising look Natasha had given Banner, when they'd first arrived on board the helicarrier.

He felt like a fool, but more importantly, he was honestly worried about Natasha. Not that he thought she couldn't handle herself, Steve knew from first hand experience that she could wipe the floor with all of them, one way or another... and it wasn't like Banner was a bad guy, he wasn't, it was his alter ego that had Steve worried.

Even though the doctor had figured out a way to better control his Jekyll and Hyde personality, with Natasha's help... something that had seemed strange previously, but made more sense after seeing them cuddled up together... Banner had still persuaded Stark to create the Hulkbuster. Which made it clear that he didn't even trust himself, something that had proven devastatingly accurate just hours before.


	10. Motivation

The next morning after breakfast, once Laura had ushered the children out of the kitchen, a cloud of despair seemed to settle over the six of them... or at least five of them. Steve lent against the wall that joined onto the living room, whilst Stark sat on the steps that led to the work-in-progress Clint insisted would eventually be a playroom.

Banner was huddled over in the corner, propped up by an impressive dresser, while Clint sat on the counter near the sink. Natasha was the only one still sitting at the table, as Fury stalked around the warmly lit room. The former director was still an imposing figure, despite wearing a fluffy looking grey jumper, and simple black slacks.  
  
“Ultron says the Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission,” the Fury stated. “And whether or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this...” he spread his arms, gesturing around the homely room. “Laid in a grave. So stand. Out wit the platinum bastard.”

At one time, Steve would have though Fury was being callous and heartless, especially as he saw Clint's jaw tensed at the thought. The archer had more to lose than any of them combined, and the strain of that was starting to show in his eyes.

However, after seeing Fury run around with the Barton children last night, playing 'pirates' of all things, Steve realised that the director wasn't being as cold as he'd once imagined. He was playing the situation to his advantage.

The Avengers had taken a beating, a tough one, but Clint had brought them to his safe house. His home. He'd shared the warmth and the love of his family with them. Sometimes, the global scale of what they did could become abstract, but living with a team mate's family... it was something they could all relate to.  
  
“Steve doesn't like that kind of talk.”  
  
Natasha's sultry voice cut through his thoughts, and Steve found himself looking at the amused redhead. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that she was giving him bedroom eyes, her gaze certainly smouldered enough to be classed as such.

He swallowed thickly, and his heart rate began to beat inexplicably faster. Then, her actual words registered. Evidently, he was never going to live that down. Steve crossed his arms, before raising both his eyebrows and giving her a pointed look.  
  
“You know what, Romanoff...”  
  
Then that damnable smirk of hers was pulling at her lips... luscious, full lips that were wonderfully emphasised by her vivid red lipstick. The way she looked at him just then, like she was daring him to follow through, reminded him so much of Peggy.

There was a time, back before the serum and still in basic, when the brunette had glanced at him over her shoulder, with such a knowing look on her face... Natasha's look was so reminiscent of that moment, that Steve felt the dark cloud that'd been following him finally abate.

Ever so slightly, at least. Then Clint snorted in amusement, before jumping down from the counter to join Natasha and Fury at the table. Stark was the next to join them, grabbing the jug of orange juice on the way to his seat. Banner clapped Clint reassuringly on the shoulder, before settling in his chair.

Pushing himself off the wall, Steve followed suit. Natasha was still giving him that same smirk, and he knew she was silently challenging him. There was no doubt in Steve's mind about that. He wasn't sure what she was seeing in him at that moment, but she reminded him of Peggy more than ever, and he'd be damned if he let either of them down.


	11. Secrets and Revelations

When the dust had literally settled, the Avengers had saved the world from crisis once again.

However, they were no longer a united team. Banner... or perhaps it was the Hulk, had left. They had all seen the video link between the behemoth and Natasha, and none were left unaffected. Steve hadn't felt able to offer her any condolences or platitudes, but he'd watched on in silence, as the rest of the team had rallied around her.

Thor had silently handed her a hip flask, presumably full of Asgardian mead. Tony had F.R.I.D.A.Y check the flight path of the jet that the Hulk was using, resulting in both him and Fury speculating that Banner was probably headed for Fiji. Clint slung an arm around Natasha's shoulders, kissed the top of her head, and told her it wasn't her fault... which confused Steve, because of course it wasn't her fault.

She couldn't stop Banner from leaving, any more than Steve could understand how anyone could leave such a black-out girl. But Steve's confusion only grew when Wanda Maximoff, who had agreed to join the team, stood beside the redhead and said:  
  
“You did what you hoped was best, you both did. There's no shame in that.”  
  
Even Vision stated: “Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live. It is alright to let him go.”  
  
Steve didn't understand any of their sentiments, and barely managed to offer Natasha a tight lipped smile, when they finally arrived at their newly built head quarters; a building that Tony had left Maria Hill in charge of co-ordinating, whilst they dealt with Ultron.

But even Hill, who had never seemed to see eye to eye with Natasha, laid a hand on the redhead's shoulder and said:  
  
“You did the best you could.”  
  
Biting back a disgruntled sigh, lest it came over the wrong way, Steve's brow furrowed. He really couldn't understand why everyone was consoling Natasha in such a strange manner, though he wasn't surprised by the carefully neutral way she accepted their sentiments.

She was tough, possibly the toughest woman he had ever met... which was really saying something. But when he found her a day later, sat on the floor and staring blindly at an expanse of slate grey wall, Steve worried for her.

They were the only two left... Clint had rushed off to be with his family; after his young son had called, frantically telling him the baby was on the way. Thor had left to return to Asgard, with a promise to ask someone called Heimdall, to check that Banner was at least alright. Tony had recently departed for New York, to be with Pepper, and Fury was once again in the wind.

So when Steve found Natasha staring at the blank wall, he was at a loss. She looked the most unguarded he'd ever seen her, as well as quiet and dejected. Her phone lay in her lap, and as he drew closer to her, Steve realised it was open on a picture of a baby. A boy with the same blue-green eyes as Clint, wearing a shirt that proclaimed: Nathaniel Pietro Barton... Natasha's godson.

Despite the situation, his lips twitched with the urge to smile; it was rare to see the redhead's softer side. Slowly, Steve lowered himself to sit beside her, not too close that he risked making her uncomfortable, but close enough that their knees brushed against each other.

“Are you okay?” he asked, gently.  
  
“I let him down,” she replied, quiet and surprisingly honest.  
  
“Natasha, you didn't...”  
  
She shook her head. “Bruce is my friend and I let him down. He trusted me to help control the Hulk along with Tony, and I couldn't.”  
  
Natasha sounded so angry, that Steve was hard pressed not to flinch. He looked at her questioningly. Of course, he knew about the lullaby... even if he had no idea how it worked. He also knew Banner had begged Tony to build the Hulkbuster, and despite the billionaire being originally against the idea, he'd reluctantly agreed in the end.

That wasn't what confused him. It was Natasha referring to Banner as a friend, not something more. But before he could ask, she was speaking again.  
  
“After New York, I went to stay with Clint for a while, and I dragged Bruce along. He was burnt out from letting the Hulk loose for so long, and Clint was happy to give him a place to lay low... especially when he was so worried about Ross finding him again.

The first night there, he fell asleep listening to Laura sing the kids to sleep, later waking up apparently feeling calmer than he had in years. It happened every night for about a week, before Clint suggested trying to see if it would calm the Hulk.

Bruce didn't want to try, he worried about hurting us, especially Laura and the kids. Clint told Tony about it, and you know Tony, he was at the farm the next morning with a prototype of a containment field in tow... as well as some new arrows for Clint, and widow bites for me. Oddly, the lullaby worked first time. Apparently the Hulk likes my singing.”  
  
Natasha paused, smiling almost ruefully. Which caused Steve to wonder what she did sound like when she sang, since he'd never heard.  
  
“Within a week, we managed to get the lullaby down to just a few words from it, making it more viable on a mission. From then on, we all agreed that I would share a room with Bruce, whenever it was needed. Tony's Bruce's best friend, but the Hulk seems to prefer me.

We figured that if anything ever happened indoors, the lullaby would have a better chance at working, rather than the containment field. Considering what the Hulkbuster became, it was definitely the right call. But he put so much trust in me... and I let him down.”  
  
“Natasha, you didn't...” Steve tried again.  
  
She glared at him. “Yes Rogers, I did. Trust me, I know my own actions. And because of my failure, Bruce is god knows where.”  
  
“I guess I'm not going to convince you otherwise,” he sighed. “And I know it might be the wrong thing to ask, but are you alright? I know Banner was... special to you.”

Natasha chuckled. “He's a good friend. Something I have in very short supply.”  
  
“Just friends?” Steve's mouth spoke, before his mind had chance to stop it, and he was mortified.

“Yes cap, just friends.” she stated, calmly. “Though I know my reputation would make you think otherwise.”

“No... no! Natasha. No, it's not that. It's just...”

Steve dropped his head to his hands, sighing audibly. He knew he would mess it up, but didn't think he would do so badly, that he'd actually offend her. He couldn't fathom how or why he'd been so stupid... it was like sitting in that damnable car with Peggy all over again.

He really had no luck or clue when talking to pretty dames, even after all these years. But unexpectedly, Steve felt a small hand rub soothingly across his upper back, and his head snapped up to look at Natasha. The smile that she gave him was something between caring and her trademark smirk.

“It's alright, I know you didn't mean it that way,” she chuckled. “I flirt with everyone, Steve. It's how I am. Clint, Tony and Sam like bad puns and cheesy pick up lines. You and Thor prefer compliments, though you blush like hell every time, which makes it a lot more fun.

Whilst Bruce goes more for intellectual conversations, and a touch of old Hollywood glamour. He's a sweet, good looking guy... and sure, we kissed once, but there was nothing there. He's still in love with Betty, and I'm...”  
  
She trailed off, which drove Steve to distraction. Though it was only in that moment, that he realised how close they had drifted together.

They were leaning into each other, their faces merely inches apart, and he felt like he could drown in her startling green eyes. Some tiny, deluded, optimistic part of him began to furiously hope.  
  
“And you're?” he prompted, in a whisper.  
  
“Allowed to keep some secrets.”  
  
And just like that, the mood was broken. Natasha gracefully got to her feet, planting a light kiss on Steve's forehead, and ruffled his hair as she stood. He sat dumbfounded, and watched as she sashayed away from him, unable to stop his eyes drifting to her swaying hips.


	12. Failure

In the following year, things went okay. The new team was doing well. Colonel Rhodes had joined Sam, Wanda and Vision; and Natasha had been Steve's second in command through the whole process.

He still missed the old team, they both did, but things were going well... until Lagos happened. That was a disaster. Sure, they'd stopped the terrorist cell fronted by Rumlow; or Crossbones, as he'd come to be know.

Sure, they'd stopped a lethal bio-weapon from being released on the populace, mostly thanks to Natasha's unbelievably quick reflexes... and sure, they'd managed to stop a suicide bomb from wiping out the entire marketplace. But none of that made up for what had happened.

Steve had been thrown by Crossbones' talk of Bucky, and because of that, he hadn't even noticed his ex-co-worker pull a detonator from his vest. If it hadn't been for Wanda, Steve was positive that he... along with the hundreds of people that had been in the densely laid out market, would have died right there and then.

He was amazed at how the young woman's powers had developed, and how well she had command over them. However, her earlier work at the research facility must had drained her more than Steve realised, and a momentary slip in Wanda's concentration had caused a catastrophe.

Steve didn't blame her, couldn't blame. Even if it wasn't his fault and his responsibility, which it was, he couldn't have blamed Wanda from what happened. She'd saved hundreds with her quick thinking actions, but dozens had died, as she lost control of her containment field, and Crossbones' detonation blasted the hundredth floor of the nearby high-rise.

Wanda had dropped to her knees, and after radioing for medical assistance, Steve had instinctively gone to comfort his young teammate. As he did so, Natasha ran passed them and into the burning building, with Sam flying in overhead.

Steve was torn between helping Wanda, who was distraught by her actions, and helping with the evacuation. But before he was forced to decide, his young teammate made the decision for him. Steve was both concerned and impressed when Wanda stood on shaky legs, grimly viewed the damage, then in a voice no more than a whisper, stated:

“Pietro and Clint would never forgive me.”

Without another word, she levitated herself to join Sam on the upper floors, and Steve took off at a run in search of Natasha. He found her on the eighty seventh floor, unsurprised at her quick assent.

In the year they'd been training the new band of Avengers, Steve had often found himself wondering if the Red Room had done more than brutally train the redhead. She easily kept pace with him during their morning runs, only slowing down to a more normal pace if Sam joined them.

There were many times that Steve had wanted to ask, but every time he'd chickened out. He didn't want to offend Natasha, or bring up something that she was uncomfortable talking about. He'd even thought about asking Clint a couple of times, but decided it wasn't worth the risk. They may be friends, but Steve still didn't fancy having the world's most deadly assassins angry at him.

Thinking of Clint, he wished the sharpshooter hadn't gone into retirement. Apart from knowing Natasha missed her partner and best friend, Steve couldn't shake the feeling that if Clint had been with them, that the incident with Crossbones wouldn't have ended the way it did. But there was no point dwelling on what-ifs and could've-beens. Especially when there was still work to do.

So instead of thinking, Steve dropped to his knees at Natasha's side, and used his shield as a makeshift lever. On the count of three, he managed to raise the heavy steal beam just enough, for the redhead to pull out the severely injured woman trapped beneath it.

Once the traumatised victim was in the care of the newly arrived paramedics, the pair went on to help the next survivor, and the next. They worked well into the night, as did Wanda and Sam.

The quartet eventually arrived back at their hotel a little after two the next morning; and only after Coulson had ordered them to do so, since extraction would arrive at zero six hundred hours. Sharp.


	13. Miles High, but Feeling Low

The flight back to HQ was quiet and intense; not since their defeat at the hands of the twins and Ultron, had the team suffered so greatly.

Naturally, Wanda was the most affected, and Steve watched as Natasha tried to comfort the younger woman. They spoke in hushed tones, heads bent together, and even though his enhanced hearing allowed him to hear them speaking, Steve didn't know what they said. They spoke in Sokovian or Russian, he wasn't sure, but from the look on both their faces, it was evident that Wanda was not easily consoled.

Not long after, Natasha left the younger woman's side, squeezing her shoulder as did so. Sam quickly took the redhead's place, and pulled Wanda into a one armed hug.

Steve turned his focus away from the pair, and watched as the Natasha sauntered into the cockpit. On impulse, he followed her, and found her curled up in the pilot's chair.

“Laura? Hey, is Clint there?” she spoke into her StarkPhone. “No, Let him enjoy hiking with the kids. How long will they be gone? Two days... wasn't he supposed to be taking them on a fishing trip? Oh, at the end of the week? How long is the school break? Is he driving you crazy yet?”

She paused, and chuckled lightly. “I better go. Take care of yourself and that little traitor. Ask Clint to contact me when he gets back.”  
  
Once she hung up, Steve settled a hand on Natasha's shoulder, earning him half a smile.  
  
“Need something?” she asked.

Steve couldn't help rolling his eyes. “How you holding up?”

Natasha shrugged. “Wanda's not doing great, so I thought I'd get Clint to talk to her. He's much better at this sort of thing than I am.”  
  
“I asked how you are, not what you're doing,” Steve smiled.

He leant against the side console, whilst she arranged herself in a more comfortable position... presumably, anyway. With one knee drawn up to her chest, and the other leg curling underneath her, Steve winced internally at the sight. It didn't look at all comfortable, but then again, he had always been amazed at how flexible Natasha was.

Idly, he thought back to the few times he'd caught her and Bruce practising yoga, whilst they were recuperating at Clint's farm. He could see the benefit of the exercise itself, but couldn't fathom most of the poses, and suspected he'd throw his back out if he ever tried.

A soft sigh from Natasha brought Steve out of his wayward thoughts, and he found her staring blindly out of the cockpit window.

“Believe it or not, this shit doesn't get easier,” she stated. “Yes... I know... language.”

It was Steve's turn to smirk. “You and Stark really aren't ever going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” she smiled, ruefully. “But if you truly want an honest answer. I'm fine. Though surprisingly, the Black Widow has never liked collateral damage.”

For reasons unbeknownst to even himself, Steve leant forward and kissed Natasha on the top of her. The action surprised him, as much as it did her her.

But that didn't compare to the shock he felt, when Natasha wound her arms around his waist, and rested her cheek on his abdomen. Hesitantly, Steve wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and pulled her closer... it felt good.


	14. Opposite Sides of the Table

Steve's mind felt like it had short circuited, and for several heartbeats, he stared at Natasha in silence. Out of all the people in the room, he'd expected her to have his back, like she always had... but she had sided with Stark.

Credit where credit was due, even Stark seemed stunned by the revelation, whilst Sam and Rhodes stared at her in utter shock. Vision was seemingly unmoved, whilst Wanda merely regarded Natasha quietly, which earned the young woman a raised eyebrow from the redhead.

Steve couldn't be certain, but he suspected the two were having some sort of silent conversation, kept private by Wanda's powers.

He repressed a shudder, still awed that Natasha had allowed the Scarlet Witch access to her mind, given how disturbed she'd seemed after their first encounter. But it seemed that Clint's persona and outlook on life must have rubbed off on his best friend, more than Steve had previously suspected.

The archer was big on second chances, and it seemed Natasha was as well; which made her decision even more confusing.

How could she side with Stark? With Ross? Especially giving the history the former general had with Bruce... it didn't make sense. Couldn't she see that the Sokovia Accords were nothing but a leash?

Making a conscious effort to remain calm, Steve took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly. He repeated the motion again, and then a third time, gradually releasing the death grip he had on the arm of his chair.

He chanced a quick glance in Natasha's direction, only to find the redhead silently regarding him, her brow furrowed slightly. At that moment, Sam rested a warm hand on his shoulder, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Really, it was no surprise that both of them noticed his agitation. Steve didn't mind Sam knowing... after all, it was Falcon who had taught him the breathing technique,in the first place.

Natasha on the other hand, was a different matter. Why did the spy have to be so perceptive? Though when Steve thought about it, she'd be pretty poor at her job if she wasn't.

He tried to offer her a smile, if only to get her to shift her focus elsewhere; since he'd never been able to stand against her penetrative green eyes, but it only earned him a raised eyebrow. Steve shook his head slightly, not wanting to argue with Natasha, especially in front of the rest of the team, and thankfully she gave the barest nod in agreement.

Trying not to sigh, Steve scrubbed a hand over his face, debating how best to make his excuses... The barely concealed anger and annoyance was starting to grate on him, and if he didn't leave soon, Steve knew his temper would get the better of him. It was almost inevitable, since Natasha's decision settled like a hot coal in his gut.

In truth, whilst he could appreciate Wanda's hesitance, and accepted that Vision would side with Stark; since he was still so like J.A.R.V.I.S at times that it was unnerving, Rhodes and Stark's decision to back the Accords was a bitter pill to swallow. But that paled in comparison to Natasha.

Illogically, Steve felt betrayed by her siding with Stark. It hurt, and left him feeling like the rug had been swept from under him. He needed to leave, to clear his head... if only for five minutes, but he needed to do so _now_.

But before he had even managed to leave his seat, Steve's phone vibrated, alerting him to an incoming text message... a form of communication that Natasha had laboriously spent months explaining to him.

Guilty, he hoped that whatever the message contained, would offer him some respite from the current situation. But when he read the text, his world fell apart.


	15. Take Me to Church

The church had emptied out some time ago, with the hundred plus guests moving to the hotel that would hold the wake; which left Steve alone in the nave of Saint James' church.

He felt adrift. Peggy was gone. The last link to his past, and a large part of his heart, had gone with her.

He was also still reeling from the revelation that Sharon; Agent Thirteen... the 'nurse' that had been Fury's eyes on him, had been Peggy's niece. In retrospect, the same surname should have given him a clue.

But then again, Carter was hardly uncommon, and the two women didn't share a familial resemblance.

Steve sighed, leaning back against the pew he stood beside, staring blinding at the ornate stained glass windows. He was thankful that Sam had accompanied him, even though he had originally protested his friend's offer.

It had been relief to have a friendly face waiting for him, after he'd helped lower the coffin to the alter. It was also a relief that Sam had offered his arm to Sharon, and escorted her out of the church, when Steve had felt unable to do so.

Which was how he found himself alone, surrounded by empty pews and flickering candles, with tears gathering in his eyes.

Then, the sound of high-heeled shoes clicking on marble broke the silence. Steve turned his head in the direction of the noise, expecting to see Sharon coming to check on him; so he was surprised when the sight of Natasha greeted him.

Part of his brain registered how good she looked, dressed in a plum coloured pencil skirt and matching jacket, the shade so dark that it almost looked black. Her make up was soft and feminine, and her red hair was gently curled, in the way he'd long come to appreciate.

“I'm on my way to Vienna,” Natasha said, as way of greeting.

Steve sighed. “You know I can't come with you.”

“I know.”

Steve's gaze had wandered to the floor whilst he spoke, but now the snapped up to regard her. He had been sure she had come to try an convince him to sign the accords. It wasn't Natasha's usual style, to kick a man whilst he was down... at least within their team, but he wouldn't have blamed her for trying.

He frowned, trying to read her. But trying to read Natasha, was often like trying to read a blank piece of paper. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking or feeling, unless she wanted you to... or you were Clint. But despite all logic, a tiny flicker of hope sparked in Steve's chest. Since she'd outright admitted she was still signing the accords, Steve couldn't help wonder if Natasha was simply here for him.

He felt guilty for that hope, since he had just laid to rest his best girl, but Steve had admitted his attraction to the redhead long ago... at least to himself, at any rate.

“Why are you here, then?” he asked, cautiously.

Natasha shrugged. “I didn't want you to be alone.” She paused, and her eyes cast to were Peggy's casket still stood. “And I don't think she would have wanted you to be either.”

Steve swallowed passed the lump that had formed in his throat, tears welling in his eyes once again. He turned his head away, not wanting anyone... not even Natasha, to see him finally break. But before he could hide, a gentle hand cupped his cheek.

Daring to look in her direction, Steve found Natasha smiling at him sadly. She stroked his cheek, almost affectionately, before pulling him into her arms. He collapsed into her embrace without protests, tightening his arms around her slender waist. Despite his best attempts, Steve buried his face in her soft hair, as the tears finally began to fall.


	16. Hanging on the Telephone

Steve's heart was still hammering in his chest, even as he perched on the bar stool, in the tiny Austrian street cafe. Despite telling Natasha he couldn't come with her, couldn't sign the accords, he had still travelled to Vienna after her.

Sam had merely given him a knowing look when he'd stated his intention, but had grabbed his own duffel, and joined him on the commercial flight from London to the Austrian capital.

They'd only been ground side for less than two hours before an explosion had rocked the city, and if that wasn't bad enough, Bucky was being cited as the bomber. Steve couldn't believe it. Even standing just outside the police cordon, that now surrounded the Millennium Building, he couldn't accept that Bucky had been the cause.

For a year, he and Sam had chased his best friend, and Bucky had been nothing more than the ghost story Natasha had warned him off. There was simply no way he'd reveal himself, in such a major way. There had to be something more than met the eye, but that thought had been overshadowed, by the dread that something had happened to Natasha.  
  
Thirty long and gruelling minutes passed by, before she finally emerged from the still smoking high-rise. Only Sam's hand on his arm, had stopped Steve from rushing to Natasha's side, and swallowing thickly, he settled for appraising her at a distance.

She looked mostly okay, minus the shallow cut to her temple, and the concrete dust that covered her from head to toe. Steve watched as she waved off paramedics, and sat down beside an attractive, dark skinned man.

He was too far away to hear what was said, but from their body language, he guessed Natasha was consoling him. Which was made all the more clear, when the man stood and approached the gurney that had just left the building, carrying a body covered in a sheet.

Sighing, Steve turned away, and followed Sam almost blindly, which was how he found himself in the tiny street cafe. Deciding he would have more luck finding out any information, mainly because he wasn't as easily recognisable as Captain America, the Falcon left to do some recon.

For several minutes, Steve fiddled with a cardboard coaster and sipped on his glass of water, before finally fishing out his phone from his pocket. It was a burner number, since he hadn't wanted anyone to follow them, but throwing caution to the wind, he dialled the only number he knew by heart.  
  
“Natasha,” he greeted.  
  
“Steve?!” she hissed, in a whisper.

From his perch at the bar, he still had a clear sight of the redhead, where she sat on a bench. Steve smiled slightly, as she discretely started to scan the area. He was fairly confident he was too far away for her to spot him, but he pulled down the brim of his baseball cap, just in case. This was Natasha Romanoff, after all.

“I know you're near by,” she continued, quietly. “And I know how much Bucky means to you. But Steve, stay out of this one... please, you'll only make this worse.”  
  
“Are you saying you'll arrest me?”  
  
He had meant for it to be a joke, but the words came out more flat and strained than he intended. Wincing, Steve bit back a sigh, as he watch Natasha frown. He wasn't sure if she was angry or upset, until she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Then, unexpectedly, she looked straight at him. Steve knew she had spotted him, and was torn between being relieved and disappointed, that she didn't make a move to join him.  
  
“You know what's about to happen,” she said, into the phone. “Do you really want to punch your way out of this?”  
  
This time, Steve did sigh. “What would you risk for Clint?”  
  
It was a low blow, and he knew it the moment the words were out... he'd seen some of the lengths she'd go for her partner. He didn't need the sound of her carefully exhaled breath, or the way she started to stare at the pavement in front of her, to tell him he'd struck a chord.

Besides, Steve already knew the answer, he'd worked with Natasha during Loki's invasion. But then again, as selfish as it was, Steve hoped reminding her would persuade her to his side.

But then his heart sank, as the distinctive bleep of the call being ended could be heard. For a second, Steve stared at the phone in disbelief, before his gaze snapped up to look at Natasha... panic gripped him when he couldn't see her, not even managing to catch a flash of red locks anywhere in the crowd.

Screwing his eyes shut, Steve swallowed passed the suddenly formed lump in his throat, before his phone started to vibrate...it was a text message from an unknown number:

**Don't get yourself killed, Rogers.**


	17. Utter Madness

“We're in position.”  
  
No matter how much Steve was reeling, Natasha's voice could still reach him. From finding Bucky and almost fighting along side him again, to chasing his friend down an Austrian Bundesstraßen; whilst being followed by a guy in a cat outfit, and being arrested for 'obstruction of justice' by the Bundespolizei.

Never mind discovering that cat-man, as Sam had dubbed their pursuer, was actually the new king of Wakanda... or the fact that both Natasha and Stark went out of their way to get him and Sam released, and on route to Berlin, where Bucky had been taken.

The flight had been tense and silent, with Natasha throwing him a worried glance, before spending the rest of transit in the cockpit with Stark.

Once in Berlin, Steve had been equally surprised and relived to see Sharon there, and was utterly shocked when she had tampered with the Bundeswehr facility's security, to allow him to watch Bucky's interrogation.  
  
Then the whole system unexpectedly went down; before emergency generates came online, and Steve's panic about Bucky's safety increased tenfold.

Whoever had been conducting the investigation was not who they claimed to be, and it seemed that his friend's brain washing had been reactivated. Steve, Sam and Sharon had split up; to try halt Bucky's destructive rampage, radioing for Natasha and Stark on the way.

Unfortunately, the Winter Soldier's path took them into the multi-story canteen of the complex, but thankfully, the Bundeswehr had managed to evacuate the area. The few officers that engaged the Winter Soldier... but it was obvious it wasn't Bucky... were dispatched with a single-minded efficiency, that left Steve feeling sick.

From his unwanted vantage point on the one of the upper floors, he watched in horror as Stark confronted Bucky. Even in his almost shell-shocked state, he was thankful that Tony had tried to neutralise the threat, in a non-lethal form.

Choosing first a sound wave attack, then advanced flash bang technology, that was encased in his Iron Man glove. Though the effort ultimately proved futile, the glove did protect Stark's hand from being blown off, when Bucky shot at point blank range.

After Tony was flung across the floor like a rag doll, Sharon appeared as if from nowhere, and launched herself at Bucky. Watching her team up with Natasha, albeit briefly, was rather impressive. However, the Winter Solider... because that _was_ who they were fighting now, soon threw Sharon into a wooden table, at an angle that caused it to crumple.

Natasha then tried to use her signature move on Bucky, but he almost pre-empted the attack, and carried her a couple steps, before slamming her onto another table. Steve watched in horror, as the Winter Soldier's metal hand closed around Natasha's neck, before her gasping voice through the comm. link, finally jolting Steve to his senses.  
  
“You could at least recognise me.”  
  
He had no idea what she had meant by that, it certainly seemed an odd thing to say, whilst someone was trying to strangle you. But it had certainly served to snap Steve out of his idiotic stupor, and he took to the stairwell, clearing five at a time.

When he reached the bottom, T'Challa had somehow prised Bucky away from Natasha, who was led gasping on the table. Angry fingermarks were already beginning to bloom in vivid reds and purples, around Natasha's pale throat. And Steve quickly checked on her, even as the fight moved up onto the level that he'd descended from.

He guiltily glanced away from Natasha, even as he helped her sit up. He was torn between following his one time best friend, and remaining to make sure the dame he was falling for was alright. But then Stark and Sharon were beside them, and Sam called over the comm. link:

“They're headed for the roof.”  
  
Natasha caught Steve's eye, and gave a ghost of a smile. “Be careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bundesstraßen - Motorway/Freeway  
> Bundespolizei - Austrian police force  
> Bundeswehr - German United Forces


	18. Beginning of the End

If anyone had asked him how they got there, Steve would have said it was above his pay grade. Though to be honest, he'd felt a little cast a drift, ever since finding Bucky in that grotty warehouse. Not so much from finding him, but because for the first time since encountering the Winter Soldier, Bucky looked at him and _remembered._ He was blown away by that.

Sam was sceptical, and even though he was over the moon, Steve could understand his friend's point of view. Still, Sam had helped, and even put them in touch with an acquaintance of his; Scott Lang. Steve's fingers had itched to text Natasha, but he'd held back, worried she'd give the intel. to Stark if she knew. So he had contacted Sharon instead.

Steve had been left further confused and reeling, when the blonde had pulled him in for a kiss, after dropping off their gear. It had taken much too long for his brain to register what was happening at first. After all, Sharon was a good looking dame, and good looking dames didn't go for him... other than Peggy.  
  
Well, that was probably the pre-serum part of his brain talking, because sure, after the serum he'd gotten a fair few looks, and even a kiss before Peggy... But still, Steve hadn't been expecting it. He'd kissed her back, because it would have been rude not to, but all he couldn't think was: she wasn't Natasha.

A little later, when he was stumbling over his words, his mind screamed that she was also Peggy's _niece_... but mostly, the problem was she wasn't Natasha. He'd returned to the little beat up car he'd borrowed, to find Bucky and Sam giving him smug grins. He'd blushed, but had silently started the clunky engine.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve had caught Sam given him a knowing look again, but had thankfully left it at that. Once again, he thought about texting Natasha, to apologise, if nothing else... but that would have been foolish. Apart from nothing happening between them, Natasha had once tried to set him up with Agent Thirteen. So she wouldn't have understood why he felt so guilty.

But all that paled in comparison, to one of his worst nightmares coming true.

Sure, Steve had Bucky back by his side... and it was Bucky, not the Winter Soldier. Maybe not the same Bucky he'd known before the war, but certainly the one he'd first got back from Zola. But now he was now facing off against half of his team, people who'd become his family.

Sam was still by his side, as was Wanda and Clint, along with Lang. But they were standing against Natasha, Stark, Vision, Rhodes, and apparently the king of Wakanda, not to mention some punk in a bright blue and red suit.

Steve had watched as Natasha and Clint had winced when they saw each other, and in truth, he did feel bad about getting the archer involved. However, he hadn't seen another way to get Wanda out of the lock down, that Stark had her under, and Clint had jumped at the chance to repay the debt he owed to Pietro.

Swallowing thickly, Steve chanced a glance at Natasha. Her gaze had locked with Clint's for long enough, that Steve had been convinced the two were actually telepathic, but then she had turned her eyes to Bucky.

Whilst Natasha remained cool and aloof, Bucky seemed to flinch under her gaze, leaving Steve to wonder if the two had ever crossed paths before... at least, that didn't involve the Winter Soldier shooting at her. Whether they had or hadn't, Steve had a feeling things were only going to go downhill from here.


	19. Lost and Found

“Nata?”

Steve's heart was pounding, his stomach had dropped, and he had a lump forming in his throat. He and Bucky had barely made it to the hanger, only managing to do so because of Wanda, before being confronted by Natasha.

Even though he'd seen the redhead fighting with Clint earlier, and even though he could tell they were both pulling their punches, Steve couldn't even _think_ of raising a hand to Natasha. It made him feel physically sick.

She'd been pointing what looked like a lazer bracelet at them, a new toy from Stark no doubt, which caused Steve to raise his shield to deflect the upcoming shot. However, he did nothing else, other than look at her pleadingly. He'd thought about telling Bucky not to engage her, certain that his friend wouldn't have any qualms over defending them against Natasha's attack.

But that was until he heard Bucky whisper that word, in a slightly disbelieving voice. That alone had surprised Steve, but then Natasha had lowered her weapon, given him a cursory look, before locking eyes with Bucky.  
  
“Вы не помните,” she said, evenly.  
  
“Да,” Bucky stated, cautiously stepping forward. “Я думал вы мечтали, Nata. Моя маленькая балерина красного цвета.”

Steve had no idea what they were saying, though he was certain they were speaking Russian. He was also certain he could see tears welling in the corner of Natasha's eyes. Steve's stomach sunk further... Natasha's earlier comment about Bucky recognising her, made sense now.

They had obviously know each other back in Russian, and even though his best friend had been the Winter Soldier at the time, Steve doubted Bucky's natural charm would have been fully erased. Every dame had always wanted Bucky, and barely giving Steve the time of day. Not that he'd ever blamed them, nor begrudged Bucky... if he'd been a woman, Steve was sure Bucky was the type of guy he'd have wanted too.

“James...” Natasha began.

Though before she could continue, or the pair could be properly be reunited, Black Panther suddenly emerged from the wreckage blocking the hanger entrance. Natasha's whole body language stiffened, before she locked eyes with Steve. For a moment, she looked more exposed and open than he had ever seen... almost raw.

“Don't make me regret this,” she stated, before turning to T'Challa. “I said I'd help you find them, not capture them.”

Without warning, Natasha unleashed a powerful shock from her bracelet, that brought the Wakandan king to his knees. Part of Steve's brain registered that it wasn't a lazer weapon at all, before Bucky was pulling urgently on his arm.

“Let's go, Punk. Otherwise Nata will kick our keisters next.”

As Bucky spoke, Steve realised his best friend was smiling... actually smiling, before he turned and jogged towards the jet. Even as he trailed after him, Steve's heart sank to join his stomach.

He may have gotten his best friend back, but he'd undoubtedly lost Natasha to him, and couldn't even be angry about it. Bucky had looked so happy to see her, and Steve couldn't begrudge him that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Вы не помните - You remember me  
> Да. Я думал вы мечтали, Nata. Моя маленькая балерина красного цвета. - Yes. I thought I'd dreamt you, Nata. My little red ballerina.


	20. Crossed Wires

It hurt, watching Bucky trying to not to smile. Even with the severity of their impending mission, every so often, the corner of his mouth would begin to twitch. After thirty minutes, Steve gave up trying to ignore it, and with his stomach still down by his ankles, he engaged the autopilot and turned to his best friend.

“How do you know Natasha?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Bucky's face lit up. “Is that what she goes by now? She was Natalia when I knew her... I honestly thought I'd made her up. She was this little firecracker. Quick on her feet, an eager learner, and an amazing dancer... even at such a young age.”

As Bucky paused, seemingly lost in thought, Steve caught and held on to his last sentence. Just how young had Natasha been, when she'd known Bucky? But before he could ask, his friend was continuing.

“I guess some part of my brain must have remembered I had a little sister, because looking back, Nata was a lot like Becca. A bit younger I think, but she had the same spark. Damn tragedy.”

Bucky's face clouded. “Even back then, I remember thinking that they were all too young, to be doing what I was training them to do. Especially Nata, she was the youngest. Not sure how many of them made it, but I'm glad Nata did. She was the only good thing I remember from back then.”

He laughed suddenly, looking a little sheepish. “I use to call her my little red ballerina, when no one else was around.”

Steve wasn't sure if he felt relieved or ill. “The red room?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, quietly. “Wait... why do you want to know? Hmm...”

Glancing away, Steve tried to appear as nonchalant as possible. “No reason, I was just surprised that you seemed to know each other. Natasha doesn't talk much about her past.”  
  
A smile that Clint and Sam would have called a 'shit eating grin' spread across Bucky's face, and Steve could feel the inevitable blush begin to burn his ears.

Sure, he was forever flustered around women, but no one could make him squirm like Bucky could. It'd be reassuring, if it wasn't so embarrassing. It didn't matter how long it had been, or how much their lives had changed... Steve was right back to being the skinny kid from Brooklyn, being goaded by his best friend.

“You punk! You like her, huh?” Bucky grinned, before frowning. “But what about that blonde?”  
  
“Sharon? She's um... nice, but um...” Steve stammered.

Bucky stared at him agape, before bursting into laughter. “Oh my god. Stevie! You kissed a girl because you thought it was polite, didn't you?”

As Steve's cheeks began to flush, as well as his ears, Bucky continued to laugh. Almost uncontrollably. It was so embarrassing, but also so very familiar... back when they were kids, if Bucky wasn't bailing him out, he was laughing at something stupid he'd done.

So despite himself, Steve started to chuckle. For the first time since the war, he felt himself again. 


	21. Black and Blue

Steve frowned, as he looked at the figure before him. Stark must have hit him harder than he thought, because he could swear Natasha was standing over him.

Shutting his eyes, Steve tried to concentrate on the real things about the moment. First and foremost, there was the pain. Iron Man packed more of a punch than he'd ever given Stark credit for, and towards the end, it had been clear it was mostly Stark and not the suit... because the suit was mostly destroyed thanks to Bucky.

Next was his laboured breathing, that was very audibly accompanied by Bucky's and Stark's, who both lay several feet away. Then there was the cold. A bitter, chilling cold that was slowly seeping through his tattered geared, and soaking into his bones.

It felt far too close to how the water had, when he'd downed Red Skull's plane. And despite his best efforts, Steve began to shiver... suddenly, a heavy yet soft weight fell over him.

“You don't know when to stand down, do you?”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of her voice, and after several seconds of pathetic scrambling, Steve peered out of the blanket Natasha had just dropped on him. He opened his mouth, to ask what exactly she was doing there, but a figure behind her caught his attention... the king of Wakanda was leaning against the doorway.

“The prisoner is safely aboard your ship,” he informed.

Frantically, Steve tried to stand, though only managed to make it to his knees. Despite how his battered body protested, he had to get to Bucky. After all that his best friend had been through... and not just the gruelling fight against Stark, there was no way Steve was going to let Bucky be taken into custody again.

“I'm okay, Stevie.”

Steve's head whipped in the direction of the subdued voice, and found Bucky sitting huddled under a blanket identical to his own. His friend's long hair hung dishevelled around his face, and his metal arm lay on the floor beside him.

Gingery, Steve half crawled half stumbled towards him, before wrapping an arm around his shoulders. With a weary sigh, Bucky dropped his forehead to his knees, causing Steve to give him a squeeze.

By this point, Natasha had left to attend Stark, and Steve watched as she helped the billionaire sit up, before draping a third blanket around his shoulders.

“He killed my mom,” Stark said, quietly.

To Steve's surprise, Natasha stroked his iron man's hair affectionately. “The Winter Soldier did. Bucky wasn't to blame.”

“Barnes is a victim,” T'Challa agreed. “Just like my father... and your mother.”

“Howard was eccentric,” Bucky said, cautiously. “But he was alright. I didn't want to hurt him, or his wife... but I couldn't not do it. I didn't even know who he was at the time, but later... bits of memories came back. I knew I knew him. I asked questioned, so they wiped me again. Probably froze me again too, because the next thing I remember is going after a scientist and a red hea...”

Bucky's head suddenly snapped up, and he stared at Natasha. Steve's eyes widened in shock, but he tightened his hold on his friend. He realised what Bucky was remembering, it was the incident Natasha had told him about, just after they thought Fury had died.

“Odetta,” she supplied. “And it's alright. It was a clean through and through. Only hit flesh, no bone or organ. Left a hell of a scar, but healed well.”

It was rather disconcerting, hearing Natasha be so calm and nonchalant about the ordeal. But Steve couldn't help wondering how much was left over from her Red Room training, how much was an effort to console Bucky, and how much she actually meant.

He shot her a questioning look, but only got a raised eyebrow in response, before she turned back to Stark.

“We need to get you onboard,” she stated. “Then we can get Zemo to the authorities... or failing that, Ross.”

“You can't,” Stark grit out, rising to stand. “They will be after you.”

“That is taken care of,” T'Challa assured. “I informed your Ross of Natasha and I's plan, to allow their escape and follow them to their destination. It is merely unfortunate that the Captain and Barnes had fled before we got here.”

For a moment, Stark glared at Steve before looking between Natasha and the king. Nothing was said for several seconds, and Bucky's posture became more tense and rigid. Then, Stark finally nodded before allowing Natasha to lead him out of the room.

“You actually coming back with me?” he asked, as they left.

“No one else is going to fly your ass home now, are they?” she replied, before disappearing from sight.

“What now?” Bucky asked, warily glancing at T'Challa.

“I will fly your plane,” the king announced. “Neither of you are in any shape to do so.”

Steve tensed. “Where to?”

He may have heard T'Challa state that Bucky was a victim, but up until recently, the Black Panther had wanted his best friend dead... so Steve was still suspicious about the king's motives.

However, T'Challa merely smiled, before walking over and dropping a duffel bag at their feet. He crouched down beside Bucky, and cautiously examined the metal arm, that was still discarded on the frozen floor.

“A place of safety.”


	22. The Start of Something New

Steve let out a weary sigh, which made his breath condensed on the spotless plate glass, that overlooked the lush jungle of Wakanda. He still couldn't believe that Bucky had opted to be frozen again. Sure, he could appreciate his best friend's reasoning, but that didn't mean it sat right with him.

Steve also couldn't believe T'Challa had offered them a place to hide, a place of safety, despite knowing they were now wanted fugitives. But Black Panther had offered them sanctuary, as a king, a warrior and an ally... even going as far as extending it to the rest of the team, once Steve had come up with a plan to free them from the Raft.

It was a humbling gesture, one that forced him to contemplate how they had gotten into the situation. But just then, soft measured footsteps pulled Steve from his thoughts. Irrational hope suddenly flared in his chest, and he wiped round, even whilst preparing himself to be disappointed.

But the feeling never came, and he stared... slightly opened mouthed, at the Black Widow in all her glory. Despite the sweltering jungle heat, that the Wakandan's state of the art air conditioning barely made bearable, she was clad in her second skin of black leather. Her red hair was beginning to curl in the tropical humidity, and there was the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“I would have been here sooner, but I had to get Laura and the kids to a safe house,” she shrugged.

“You mean...” Steve began, perplexed.  
  
“Who'd have thought Lucky would get on so well with panther cubs,” Natasha chuckled.

His mind raced to catch up with what she was saying... what she was implying, even as he watched in dismay, as she turned and began to walk away from him.

His traitorous eyes drifted down her stunning figure, and Steve couldn't help but admire her curves, even whilst he berated himself for not being a gentleman. Thankfully, he managed to snap his gaze up to an appropriate level, just as Natasha glanced at him over her shoulder.

Try as he might, Steve lost the fight to control the blush that spread across his face. One that grew crimson, at the knowing look she gave him. He was just about to stammer out an apology, before Natasha cut him off.

“So are you coming? I promised Laura I'd have Clint's sorry hide back before dinner.”

As realisation fully dawned, a grin spread over Steve's face, whilst he watched Natasha turn, and start to walk away again. She was a sight to behold... and if she had her mind set on something, Steve knew there was going to be no stopping her.

Sometimes, Natasha was so like Peggy, that it was down right terrifying... Shaking his head, he began to jog after her, intent on following her lead, though wondered if the king's armourer had managed to salvage his suit or not.

However, as he drew up along side Natasha, a wave of madness took over him. Almost of it's own volition, Steve's hand reached out to clasp her elbow. She turned to face him, her brow furrowed, and before he had time to consciously realise what he was doing, Steve found his lips pressed against hers.

Instinctively, he shut his eyes, though physically remained on alert for the punch that was surely about follow.

Though to his surprise, Steve felt Natasha step closer to him. Her arms wound around his neck, just as his left arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. His right hand carefully cupped her face, whilst his fingers gently tangling in the hair that fell around her ears.

Steve gasped slightly, as he unexpectedly felt her tongue brush against the seam of his lips, and though unsure and nervous, he readily granted her request. The soft glide of her tongue along his, was not what he had been expecting.

Sure... Bucky had talked about this type of kissing, but it was a whole new level of intimacy to Steve. Natasha tasted of bubblegum, a fact that had the corner of his mouth twitching to smile. She smelt of her signature floral perfume, with a hint of salt beneath.

But most importantly, Natasha felt so good in his arms. It gave Steve a sense of rightness, something he hadn't felt since before he was frozen.

But all too soon, she began to pull away, and he reluctantly let her go. Taking a deep breath, Steve braced himself for the gentle let down that was going to follow... Natasha was his friend after all, she was going to let him down gently, instead of laugh in his face... right?

His blush came back full force, as he nervously stood gazing into her eyes, and once again, Steve prepared himself to make a stuttering apology... Right up until he noticed the lopsided smile she was giving him. It was warm and genuine, and as Natasha raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, she stated:

“About time, Rogers.”


End file.
